Pink Satin Panties
by CastielLovesDean
Summary: A friend of Rhonda Hurley knows about the pink satin panties she got Dean to wear and would like to revisit the subject with him, unaware that he's involved with Castiel. Destiel. OFC. Written for 4thchairswag (dA) in exchange for an art commission.


**Pink Satin Panties**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_Summary: A friend of Rhonda Hurley knows about the pink satin panties she got Dean to wear and would like to revisit the subject with him, unaware that he's involved with Castiel. Destiel. OFC._

_Pairing(s): Destiel_

_Warning(s): Mpreg_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I did, there'd be more Destiel. A lot more. We'd probably have to rename it The Destiel Adventures and move it to Showtime or HBO for the nudity._

_A/N: Written for 4thchairswag (dA) in exchange for an art commission. (I'm so sorry it's taken this long. I... have no good excuse. As weak as this is, I've been in a funk. I haven't written or drawn or painted or anything for like a year.)_

_**Warning: Mpreg. Slash. Probable blasphemy.**_

* * *

Kate walked slowly up to the Sioux Falls rental home. It may have been years since she'd spoken to Rhonda Hurley and almost a decade on top of that since she'd seen Dean Winchester, but she'd recognize those eyes anywhere, including the local grocery store in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. She wasn't typically the stalker type, but she rationalized her, um, _studying _of Dean by insisting to herself that this wouldn't work if she didn't know where he lived... and what size underwear he wore.

She nervously knocked on the sturdy navy door. She couldn't believe how nervous she'd gotten in the seconds it took him to answer. He'd aged nicely. He was noticeably stockier than when he was a teenager, and his eyes had a haunted shiftiness about them, as if he weren't sure whether or not she was there to kill him. Odd.

Still, Dean Winchester. Mmm. If she could pull this off, he'd look great in the brand new ladies' satin underwear in her pocket.

Dean interrupted her internal monologue. "Can I help you?"

So she'd been staring, possibly with a demented smile on her face. "Oh! Uh, you probably don't remember me. My name's Kate; I was friends with Rhonda Hurley?"

Recognition flitted across his features. At least he remembered Rhonda. Good, this would have been awkward otherwise. Well, _more _awkward. "Rhonda Hurley," he repeated, rubbing the back of his head. "Wow, I haven't seen her in like... fifteen years? You know, I'd like to help you out, but we haven't kept in touch or anything..."

"No, no... oh." Kate chuckled. "I'm not looking for Rhonda. I'm looking for you. I recognized you at the supermarket last week. I mean, I know you were just a friend of a friend and we'd only met a couple times in passing, but you were one of Rhonda's favorite stories to share, if you know what I mean..." The light blush that crept into his cheeks said he knew. "Well anyways, I asked around a little and rumor has it you don't have a girlfriend so I was hoping you might be open to, um... a little fun..." She took the pink underwear out of her pocket and showed them to him.

His jaw dropped a little. "Uh..."

Suddenly, Kate felt embarrassed. "Oh, God. I'm wrong, aren't I? Do you have a girlfriend?"

Dean squinted. "No, I don't have a girlfriend."

The door jerked open to reveal another man, irate and rotund. "I can't believe you have the _audacity_ to proposition a stranger in broad daylight mere feet from his pregnant boyfriend," the man scolded.

"Smooth, Cas," Dean groaned.

Kate stared at Cas's round belly. "What the _hell_?" she hissed, horrified and confused.

He didn't stop to explain. He merely shouted, "Begone, Jezebel!" and slammed the door in her face.

She stood there and sputtered at the door for just a moment. Her brain hadn't even rebooted before the door opened again just long enough for the – and she couldn't even believe she was going with it – _pregnant man_ stole the pink satin panties right out of her hand and slammed the door in her face once more. She was so done. She sprinted back to her car and hauled ass.

ACDCACDC

"That was kind of rude, Cas," Dean pointed out, knowing that pregnant!Cas wouldn't listen. Those pregnancy hormones tended to make the adorable angel batshit insane, so the previous eight months had been interesting, to say the least.

"Indeed," Cas agreed, not understanding Dean's complaint. "Someone should have taught her better."

Dean shook his head. "I didn't mean her."

Cas frowned at Dean, confused.

"I'm sure she wouldn't have come if she'd known I was with you," Dean insisted calmly. "You didn't have to yell at her, call her Jezebel, and slam the door in her face... twice."

Cas scowled. "You're siding with the whore?"

"No! Don't be-"

"She was teeming with sin."

"She- _Sin?_ Really? That's rich coming from a male angel who's _pregnant _out of _wedlock_."

"And just what are you saying, Dean?"

"I'm _saying_ people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"I-" Cas stopped and cocked his head. He didn't even seem angry any more, just really confused. "We don't live in a glass house. Why would someone live in a glass house? I can't imagine glass to be a sturdy or cost-effective building material."

Dean just shook his head. "Nevermind. Why'd you steal her underwear?" he finally asked, not having the energy to explain another turn of phrase to Castiel.

"Because I have plans for you that involve them." Cas took Dean's wrist and lead him toward their bedroom. "You may want to text Sam and tell him not to come back for at least an hour."

Dean smiled. Thank goodness for pregnancy hormones making Cas unstoppably horny.

* * *

_A/N2: Please review._


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